


The Beginning of the End

by amdnj, kitarin



Category: Kamen Rider W (Double)
Genre: M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-25
Updated: 2014-07-05
Packaged: 2018-02-06 06:07:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1847212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amdnj/pseuds/amdnj, https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitarin/pseuds/kitarin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything leads up to this moment.<br/>Shoutarou must accept the difficult decision that Philip doesn't want to make. It's about time they come clean with eachother before the end.</p><p>Spoilers for end game W</p><p>Set before he events of Episode 48.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is actually meant to be part of the OTP prompt I'm doing but I really wanted to write it today.  
> It will be Day 23 - Arguing. The next chapter is Day 24 Making up...which will contain good bye sex.

There is a heavy silence between them, and it’s been that way the whole ride to the agency. If Shoutarou didn’t need his hands on the handles, they would be wrapped tightly around Philip. He’d bury his face against him and cry. He’d beg. Anything. But he knows that he can’t. He knows but he doesn’t want to think about that. Philip is….He shakes it off. He doesn’t want to lose Philip, but in the end, he’ll have to make that decision won’t he. He’ll finally have to hide the pain in his eyes. Is this what it takes to be hardboiled? He’s not sure that he wants it.

The entire walk into the agency isn’t any better. The air is tense and Shoutarou feels like he’s drowning in words and thoughts and feelings that he would never have thought he’d have to deal with. This isn’t fair. It isn’t right. He wants to scream, but he can’t even face Philip right now. What is he supposed to do?

“When the time comes, we have to henshin Shoutarou. We have to save Wakana.”  Philip is the one to break the silence. His words surprise even himself as they shake in fear and yet determination. He doesn’t want to. There’s a part of him that desperately doesn’t want to. Is it selfish or is saving Wakana selfish? Wakana is family….but so is Shoutarou.

“…No.” The answer is firm but takes a few moments to leave Shoutarou’s lips.  There is so much more he wants to say, but the words are hard. He wonders if the connection between them is strong enough for Philip to feel everything he wants to say. How can he agree to this? He turns to face Philip, and he wants to say so much more. He regrets the decision to face him. His own face is red and his eyes puffy from tears he’s fighting back. Philip isn’t much better.

 “How can I? Fuuto needs you. We’re the two in one Kamen Rider…” _I_ _need you. You’re my other half._ “I can’t do this by myself.” _I don’t want to._ It’s selfish of him, but that’s why he’s the half-boiled detective. He can’t make these sorts of decisions. If this is what boss meant by being a man, he wants to opt out from it. To give up Philip would be like giving up part of him. It would leave a whole that no one could ever hope to fill.

“You have the lost driver.” Philip tries to convince himself that Shoutarou can survive without him. Without his logic, Shoutarou will struggle, but he’s sure…he has to adapt eventually. He’s going to fade way eventually. He’d rather have it be saving Wakana than living with regrets. Right? “You can do this. I believe in you.” His voice shakes as he tries to sound convincing. _Don’t make this harder than it needs to be Shoutarou. You taught me how to be human. Do you think I want to leave you?_

“It’s not fair!” Shoutarou yells out without thinking, and he bites his tongue. He sounds like a child. Maybe he still is one. A child trying to play adult. Boss was his training wheels into adulthood. Then again, he was never taught how to ride and had been pushing himself along with his own two feet. Why did he have to lose everything? His parents. Boss. Now Philip? How was this fair?  “Wakana is your family. But so are we!” _So am I. And Akiko and Terui. They treated you like an object. They had you in a lab like some freak. We freed you and taught you how to be human again. How can I give you back to them? They don’t deserve you._ He wants to scream that out but he knows that’s a line he’s not allowed to cross.

Philip’s biological family is twisted, but they are still family right? Their rag tag family was probably less important because it wasn’t by blood. His stomach twists at the notion. He has no family. Does that mean he’ll always be put last in everyone hearts? Everyone will choose blood over him. He’ll be the last kid last all alone. Everyone with their parents. He finds that his face grows hotter and the tears are making it hard to see Philip’s expression. He’s sure between the conversation and the miserable feeling in his stomach Philip is the same. Is the feeling in his stomach his or Philips? They feel the same, but the belt makes it hard to tell when his despair ends and when Philip’s begins. The other is merged too closely to him for anything of this honestly.

“….Don’t do this Shoutarou.” Philip chokes out, and there is so much he wants to say but words are not longer working like he wants them too. Have they at all this entire conversation? He’s not sure anymore. “….What about Fuuto? If we don’t…If we don’t fight, Fuuto will lose. Even if you don’t want me to do this for her…can you….” _Can you sacrifice a whole city just to have me for a little longer?_ “It isn’t right…” _I want to run away with you. I want to turn back time and be happy with you again. I don’t want to go away. I don’t want to disappear. I just learned how to be human. How is this right? How is this fair? But we all must do things we don’t want to. I died a long time ago anyway…right…?_

Shoutarou doesn’t respond, merely tipping the fedora down to cover his eyes. He tries to hide how pathetically he’s sobbing, but not even the hat can hide the sobs that leave his lips speaking the words his heart wants to scream out.

“Shoutarou…” The word is said in a mixture of pain and compassion. Philip doesn’t want to make his partner cry, but…there is nothing that can be done. This is how it must be.

“NO!” Shoutarou looks up. Eyes wide with rage and frustration. “I fought for you! Forget how I saved you from them. I fought for you!” His voice grows sharp trying to scream out every reason and desperate plea. It nearly ruptures his throat from the sheer desire of wanting to not lose him. “Remember the old dopant? Shroud thought I couldn’t be your partner. I wasn’t strong enough. I wasn’t hateful enough. But we showed her that our love was stronger than his hate. We fought to stay together.” The word love is thrown without thinking, and he wonders if Philip notices how the word flows from his lip filled with meaning and things he’s not sure he’ll ever be able to say.

“Shoutarou this is—“ He starts to say. It’s not the same. There was a way out. There was someone to fight, but Philip isn’t…he is going to fade away.

“NO!” Shoutarou steps forward, and Philip notes how beautiful his eyes are and how emotive only Shoutarou can honestly be. “What about Xtreme? What about how I was incompatible with you? What about how you nearly had to end up with Terui…instead of me. The entire world has been trying to tear us apart. I won’t let them. I won’t lose you! I won’t give up... I need you.” _I love you. I love you. I have fought all this time to stay by your side. I have pushed these feelings down so you wouldn’t leave me. I would sacrifice everything to have you by my side, partner. I cannot lose you. I need you. Please. I can’t do this._ “I’m only half a person without you…” Shoutarou mumbles, his eyes now unable to meet Philip’s.

“You really are half-boiled you know that…” Philip croaks out. His voice is too shaky to even try to hide what he’s feeling anymore. “I’ve always loved that about you, but Shoutarou…we have to do this….we have to…”

“Boss left you in my care. I have to protect you. It was what he left to me…” _You’re all I have left of him in a way. You’re the first and last thing he ever gave to me to take care of. If I let you die, how could I ever hope to call myself….how can I ever hope to…You are the end of begins night. You are all I have of him. The fedora he left me...the white one with the slit in the front…is but a reminder of you. If I lose you, I will be even more lost than I was when you found me._ Shoutarou is still unable to make eye contact, but he tries to stop his sobbing from making talking hard. “You are the child of fate. I have to protect you…” After all, Philip is still a kid. Shoutarou feels sick about his feelings towards him corrupting everything about their relationship…

“I AM NOT A CHILD!” Philip screams at him, and it forces Shoutarou to look up at him. Philip is shaking with rage and so many other things. He’s spent so much of his life in that laboratory being treated like some sort of object or some child. He’s had a lifetime of people making decisions for him. Of living without deciding for himself. That’s what a child is. Someone who depends on adults to make decisions for them. “I am an adult. I can make decisions for myself….and this is me making a decision.”

It’s almost alarming how different Philip is from Begins Night. The childlike look of curiosity is still thee underneath everything, but there is something so different about him. A lot of the baby fat is gone from his face, and his expression looks so much older than anything he’s ever seen on him. Philip isn’t a child anymore, and Shoutarou wonders what that means for them.

“It’s selfish of me to make this decision….but Wakana is my family. I have to...save her and Fuuto…even if it means…” Looking down, Philip grips the fabric of his hoodie, trying to focus on what to say. “You are my family too. You are important.” _So important that I have spent countless nights trying to piece together why my heart beats faster. Is it the connection? What is this…? “_ But…I know what the decision I must make.”

_Who do I belong to in the end? If Fuuto could be saved without this sacrifice, would I still make this decision? Who am I in the end? Did Sonozaki Raito die and Philip born form his ashes? Or is Philip just a desperate attempt for a walking data-filled corpse to try to prove his humanity? I died so long ago. Do I deserve to make a decision that has so many **human** lives hanging in the balance? But Shoutarou has done so much more me. To whom do I owe my life to in the end?_

“…Philip…I….I can’t lose you. I care too much about you…..I can’t…” He whimpers out. It’s the same broken record he’s been saying over and over again. The need can’t get past this point and to the next verse. A thousand 'I love you's are caught in his throat. It would be wildly inappropriate for him to throw that at him now. It would seem fake and wrong and forced. Wouldn’t it?

“I care about you too. “ The word he wants to say dies on his lips. Love? Can he love? He loves his sister doesn’t he? But that’s Raito’s love. The human shell that houses him. Isn’t it? Can Philip love? Does he deserve to love? Is this feeling from Shoutarou love or is he mistaking a strong platonic bond for something romantic? Does someone like him have the right to interpret that?

The air grows thicker between them, and their eyes finally meet. The silence is suffocating.

 _What are we…?_ A single sentence is shared between them.

 _I love you. I don’t’ want to lose you. I need you. I want to be with you forever._ A shared thought that shatters both of them.

“Don’t you understand how difficult you’re making this?” Philip screams, and he knows it isn’t fair to say that to him. He knows it’s not just Shoutarou. It’s both of them. It’s both of them honestly that are making this difficult. Philip’s body language and tone speak so much differently than his words, and he’s sure that Shoutarou can tell. His heart is screaming and being torn to shreds; Philip needs to pin the blame for a second. He knows it’s wrong, and the look of devastation on the other’s face makes him realize that what he has said is unforgivable.

Wincing like a child being scolded, Shoutarou realizes just what this situation is. He’s the child and Philip is the adult. Regardless of his voice or the sadness in his eyes, Philip is being an adult and making the difficult decision. He’s taking responsibility. Yet, here Shoutarou is practically kicking and screaming, digging his heels in the ground like a child.  Here he was making it harder for him. He would fail no matter what it seemed. If he didn’t stop Philip, he will have failed the boss, and his own heart. But if Philip lives….how much longer does he really have him for. How can he protect him? How can he…?

How can he do anything when he hasn’t even revealed all the hidden thoughts and feelings? The unspoken 'I love you's still dry on his lips. How can he make a decision when he’s been unable to decidedly tell him what’s on his mind. He’s waited too long and now he can’t do it. He can’t burden Philip with that load. He’s made a grave error, hasn’t he?

“I’m sorry….I am only soft-boiled after all.” Shoutarou whispers before turning and running. He can’t do this. He can’t do this. It’s selfish of him to run and hide. It accomplishes nothing, but he needs to stop his heart from beating to painfully in his chest. He needs his mind to clear itself. He will do whatever Philip decides in the end, but right now, he just can’t do this. He can’t face this anymore than he could face Boss’s death. Anymore than he could face a parentless childhood. Anymore than anything…

“Shoutarou!” Philip calls out for him. He can feel the words Shoutarou is too scared to speak. Their bond profound enough to deliver messages that have been left unspoken in regret.  He is guilty of it too, and he wonders if Shoutarou can hear the words he wants to say. Probably not.

Ah, how strange this is…All this time it’s been Philip running forward and Shoutarou chasing after him. Philip making mistakes and Shoutarou pulling him back. Any mistakes that Shoutarou has made before…were so easily fixed or Philip was already in the process of fixing them as they were being made.

This is the first time that Philip and Shoutarou are both responsible for a mess. This is also the first time that Philip has ever had to chase Shoutarou down. The first time he truly has to fix things between them.

Maybe just maybe…Shoutarou is what makes him human.

_I love you._

And Philip runs after him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Kitarin for proof-reading and editing this chapter.
> 
> This is the longest chapter I've ever written ever honestly...

There are a thousand places Shoutarou could have run to, but it makes some sense that he’d ended up here. Setting up the pool balls, he tries to straighten his thoughts in the same way, but sadly there is no mold that he can use to put his head into the perfect shape too. His mind is too scattered to even begin to try to understand the painful signals it's sending him. It _hurts_. His whole being pounds with emotions he can’t even begin to name.

Or maybe he can. Maybe that’s the problem.

The sound of the door opening makes him mess up the preparation he’s made for this shot. He’s spent a good five minutes setting up everything perfectly just to have - he looks up to see Philip standing in the door way. Philip _is_ just like that, isn’t he? His intrusion into Shoutarou's life had messed up every little sense of order that he'd ever had – and then Shoutarou's eyes return  to the pool table to find... he'd taken a perfect shot. Every ball into the four holes in the right order. An _impossibility_. Something he’d never been able to do.

Philip was just like that, wasn’t he?

_And he's going to leave me._

The door closes behind Philip, and he slowly walks across the room, never breaking eye contact with Shoutarou. “Shoutarou...” he starts and pauses, waiting for him to interrupt. He’s surprised when Shoutarou looks away instead of answering. That’s really what this situation is.  It really is...

“I know.” And that surprises Philip even more. “I know, but I don’t have to like it… and I don’t….” He grips the table, and Philip feels his heart ache. He’s partially the cause of this. It’s not fair to either of them, but there’s nothing that can be done.

“I don’t either, but this is… my decision.”

There’s something else to the tone of his voice that Shoutarou can’t decipher. Some other message he’s trying to say, and he looks up to make eye contact with him again. It doesn’t help him at all. He’s never been able to understand Philip.

“But…I don’t want to leave like this.” He doesn’t mention anything about the party Akiko is planning. He’s sure Shoutarou would avoid the place completely if he knew if it was happening, but he needs him there. Shoutarou is so busy trying to not admit he’s leaving... that he’s wasting all the time they have left together. That isn’t fair to him. “I want to…Shoutarou…” He takes a few steps closer.

Shoutarou finds his back against the wall, his eyes wide with disbelief. The look in Philip’s eyes is that of… an emotion he’s not willing to admit to just yet. He has to be misreading him.  He just has to be.  His own eyes must be easy for Philip to read. Philip’s always been able to see right through him.

“I want to thank you.” He presses his fingers against his lip. Shoutarou is so beautiful like this, his eyes full of so many emotions. His face isn’t actively emoting, but every part of him is screaming so many different things. It’s a beautiful show - Philip’s favorite, in fact.  “Thank you for teaching me how to be human again…” After all, everything he knows about being human now is thanks to him. Memories or not.

_Terui had….how was he supposed to approach this situation? He was still learning. How did Shoutarou do it? Ah, yes. And his hand sails through the air, in just the way that Shoutarou did it, smashing the side of Terui’s face. “This is something that Shoutarou taught me...”_

His fingers brush over his lips to the side of his cheek. Every inch of skin is his to explore at this moment, and he does his best to memorize everything about Shoutarou that he can. “Thank you for teaching me how to live.”

_Every smile. Every laugh. Every little nuance from his clothes to his food... every wild adventure. Everything. If it wasn’t for Shoutarou, then what would I honestly have?_

There’s a pause that’s somehow almost deafening. When did Philip get this close? They’re practically touching at this point. He can feel Philip’s breath against his skin. It’s heightened by their bond. Each breath is laced with emotions and thoughts and words he cannot name - or dares not name. His own heartbeat thumps loudly as if to mark the seconds they’ve been staring at each other without saying a word.  Philip’s thumb brushing over his lips, a gesture far more romantic than any of the gestures before, is enough to set his whole body ablaze. The words that follow after only add kindling to an inferno.

“Thank you, most importantly, ...for teaching me how to love...” The look in Philip’s eyes is so decisive. He’s _said_ the words they've said before and then taken back. He’s _said_ the words they’ve only danced around. There are a hundred things Shoutarou can’t handle right now, and this is number one on the list. He tries to turn away, but Philip cups his cheek, making his partner focus on him. He won’t have him run away from it this time.

“I can’t, Philip! I can’t. I can’t do this. It’s not right…you’re going to _leave_ and…” Shoutarou realizes that he's admitted it out loud, and to himself, in that second. His face blanks, his skin turns cold, and suddenly his throat closes as a response. His whole body stiffens as he tries to backtrack and use something else as an excuse. “You’re still a kid. You’re underage, Philip. I -”

Smashing his lips against Shoutarou's angrily, Philip won’t have any more of this from his partner. He should know. He should know by now that he isn’t the same _child_ he’d rescued from that laboratory. He hadn’t been in such a long time.  When would Shoutarou stop hiding behind this pathetic excuse, stop trying to hide away from all the complications in his life? He has to face the truth.

“No,” Philip says simply.  “I am not a child. I told you that.” Shoutarou tries to sort his emotions from Philip’s. There’s a sea of electricity mixed with frustration and lightning. What’s his and what’s Philip’s? Why do those lips feel like they belong against his? They’re even softer than the few taken-back kisses he remembers. Is it sweeter because of how little time they have left?

“Even if you grew up, I... helped you grow up. That’s wrong, Philip. I can’t…” It’s just like him to dig his heels in the ground, unable to face something he thinks he’s not ready to face. After all, how long had it taken him to go into the basement? How long had it taken him to finally answer Akiko’s letters to her dad? Shoutarou tries to be hard-boiled, but in trying, he doesn’t let himself actually face things the way that he needs to. He makes it so much harder for himself because he has to be strong enough to do things in a hard-boiled way. But, if he let himself, he could do things half-boiled... without all this mess.

“You’re so impossible, Shoutarou. Trying so hard to be Narumi Soukichi that you can’t even see.” There’s something to the tone in Philip’s voice that sets Shoutarou ablaze with anger, enough to even turn Philip’s gaze to shock, but before Shoutarou can scream back at him, his fingers press against those lips again. “No.” Philip’s nose presses against Shoutarou's as he stares into his eyes. As he speaks, his breath tickles Shoutarou’s face and his own fingers.

“You were not an adult when you found me. You were a boy just barely out of high school. You were a child who had no idea how to be an adult - barely knew how to be a teenager. I looked you up, remember? I know about what you were like before me.” It’s something he knows he wasn’t supposed to do. Doing a lookup on someone’s entire life story was something he knew now was a very bad move. He hadn’t at the time, though, and if Shoutarou was going to be his partner, it had made sense to do that, hadn’t it?

“You did not raise me, Shoutarou. We grew up together… two young children without any parental figures to truly guide them? Childhood friends in a sense… perhaps… childhood lovers…” Moving, Philip brushes his lips delicately against Shoutarou’s cheek as his fingers brush the tears coming from his eyes that he can feel bursting through their connection.

“You didn’t just teach me, Shoutarou….” Philip smiles into the kiss on his cheek. How much had Shoutarou changed since that night? How much had Philip helped him too? “I also taught you….I helped you with the Dummy Dopant. I helped you… and you fought for me… and we…Shoutarou...” His lips are on his ear right now, and his fingers become wet from the tears falling much more frequently down Shoutarou’s face. “Are two parts of the same detective. How can that bond be anything then what you already _know_ it is…?”

“It isn’t fair.” Shoutarou finally manages to choke out. Philip’s done what only _he_ can manage -  he’s broken through Shoutarou's walls. The walls he'd put up even before Soukichi took him in, and the ones he'd strengthened when his mentor had died. “I spent so long trying to be strong…afraid I’d lose you too. I’ve pushed you away and now… I finally admit that I love you... and you’re going to leave me anyway… how... how is this fair…?”

Finally, the last wall crumbles before him, and he sees the boy hiding and crying. The one that doesn’t want to be all alone.

_If I could, I would never leave you alone._

“…Ah Shoutarou... it isn’t fair….” Philip finds that tears are falling from his own eyes. It’s not something he’s too familiar with, as there have only been a few times when he’s actually cried. “But, let me leave you something to remember… let me know all of you before I have to leave. I do not want to die with regrets….” His tongue slips out and drags over Shoutarou's ear. The emotions between them are so raw; they both visibly shudder at the sensation together.

“Philip…” Shoutarou breathes, and Philip pulls back. Their red puffy eyes meet, and another involuntary shudder passes through both of them. “I’ve never…”

But he’s cut off by another kiss. “I’ve done research… I knew….” Between Shoutarou being Shoutarou and their connection, it wasn’t as if it wasn’t obvious to Philip that Shoutarou loved him. “I have no experience either, but perhaps... we can learn this together as well, hm?”

“Was it…?” _Was it that obvious_ , but Shoutarou already knows the answer. They are two halves of the same detective, and they know everything about each other. How many unspoken 'I love you’s' have there been at this point? How many almost-confessions? How many nights of sharing the same bed? How many times of almost and maybe and perhaps have there been between them?

And now... as it's on the brink of ending forever, there's only a _yes_.

_Why couldn’t we have both said something sooner?_

“First…..let’s not focus on the what if’s….” Taking Shoutarou’s hands, Philip lets his fingertips trace every part of his face. “Let’s focus on this… learn every inch of me. Learn and memorize me, Shoutarou... so that even when I leave, you will have your _memory_. Then... I will not ever leave you completely… Shoutarou…”

It takes Philip’s hands actually dragging Shoutarou's fingers over his lips and over his cheeks to get him going. Philip’s skin is beautiful. It feels so smooth and delicate and lovely under the pads of his fingers. It feels right... as if it’s a pool of the right kind of emotion for him to jump into... And he’s finally ready to take the plunge.

Shakily, his fingers drag down the sides of his partner… his soon-to-be lover... before starting to unwrap the challenge before him. Philip’s cloak, the one that he found at his favorite store, is slipped off his shoulders and falls to the ground. There are no words as Shoutarou continues. Anything said at this moment would ruin everything. He’s sure. And besides, there’s nothing that needs to be said between them at this point. Next, his hands slide down to the edge of his shirt, and he slips the shirt up quickly, with the aid of Philip, over his head.

His breath hitches as his eyes trace over Philip's body. His pants aren’t even off, and he’s already amazed. He’s not muscular or at all like the people in magazines or movies, but there is something about him that sends shivers down Shoutarou's spine. Perhaps it’s the fact that he’s finally here in front of him. Perhaps it’s the fact that he’s… half-naked. So... he takes this chance. His fingers brush over every single inch of skin. He _will_ memorize the other’s body. Looking up, he sees Philip shudder at the touch, and he can _feel_ it too - a shudder passes through him as well. Whether it’s their connection or the sheer intensity of the moment, every single part of him is practically standing on edge. Every little motion, every graze and touch, is a  shock through his system… another part to memorize and tattoo on his essence. Even after Philip leaves… he will not let this night fade from his memory.

“….Can we go further...? Isn’t this a public place…?” Shoutarou eventually squeaks out. The intensity of the moment is even a bit much for him, and he does have to admit that fucking in a pool hall isn’t his ideal for this setting. But... neither of them really wants to move, and he already knows what the other is going to say.

“It’s late at night, Shoutarou. No one is coming.” There’s an added teasing tone to his voice, and he cuts Shoutarou off before he can start to protest. “Especially not if you continue stalling…” And the sheer dumbfounded look on his face as the other practically shatters all the intensity and seriousness with that sort of _joke?_ How does Philip even know that kind of humour? When had that happened?

“….Okay, okay…. Sorry...” Shoutarou pouts before getting back to it. Carefully undoing the button, all he can hear is his own heart beat as the blood rushes all to his face. As the pants drop to the ground, so does most of his confidence. Philip senses that Shoutarou is losing his nerve and leans in, kissing him gently.

And then finally, it's as if the fact that Philip is going to leave him can be pushed aside for a moment so that they can actually… properly have this moment.

There are no problems. No doubts. No fears. No past. No future. Only this moment.

Everything else stands still as Shoutarou drops Philip's underwear to the ground. His cheeks bloom a deeper shade as his hands graze against the skin of his - oh god, this is real. The sheer sight sends all of his blood from his face to between his legs. Shoutarou had always thought that if anything happened between them, that he would be the one leading the way. Never did he imagine that it would be him feeling as if he was experiencing puberty all over again, while Philip led the way.

“…Ah, I suppose I should aid you in the next step….? I’d like to learn you... just as you are learning me…” Leaning down, Philip presses his lips against Shoutarou's neck. The tie comes off in a split second. As Shoutarou blinks, his vision is met with the tie on the floor. There’s so much more confidence in Philip’s actions. Then again, he had said he’d researched… hadn’t he? His fingers nimbly go to the buttons on his shirt, undoing each one, fast and faster. Without a moment’s hesitation, Philip's fingers are sprawling over his chest, dragging nails over his skin before quickly yanking the shirt and vest off. “You are welcome to come at me more confidently, Shoutarou  - once I am done.”

After all, even if this has the awkwardness of a first time, they both know that this is also a goodbye. To have no regrets, he will have to…

Nervously, Shoutarou drags his nails against Philip’s back, earning a groan as Philip arches his back in response. Between his own feelings and Philip’s, he finds himself pulsing with so many different sensations. He parts his lips and lets a gasp leave them. With that leaves all his doubts and fears, as there really is no time to let himself do this so… half-boiledly.

Lightning pierces him as Philip’s teeth dig into his collar bone. There’s a warm running feeling, and he thinks it might be blood. Philips’ tongue quickly replaces his teeth and he drags it over the spot, swirling. The motion is repeated again and again, and Shoutarou can feel Philip getting harder and harder against his thigh. It’s an amazing thing about their connection, to feel what is being done to them on top of what they are doing _to_ the other. It’s an endless echo of pleasure back and forth. Philip seems to be in so much more control of his body than Shoutarou is though, honestly. How he’s able to function while feeling this way…

Philip’s lips move south as his hands undo Shouarou's pants, and what was a streak of lightning is now a hurricane of a thousand little lightning bolts that all hit through every delicate ounce of his person at once. _Is he really going to?_ Sweat pours down him. Between the sensations, his thoughts whirl - there is so much that can go wrong. What if he… what if he performs badly? There is only one night, and if he were to… come early? Everything would be ruined.

As if…no, he's _definitely_ feeling his partner's fear when Shoutarou’s pants drop to the ground, and Philip's head snaps up, eyes wide and full of an expression that can only be described as … _Philip - c_ urious and manic and fascinated. It’s a look he only gives when he’s absolutely in love and on the ball with something that he’s researching. But... there’s nothing here but Shoutarou.

Does that mean that all these times... that look was meant for him and he's missed it, swamped by his own doubt?

“You have always been, and always will be, absolutely beautiful, Shoutarou. A canvas of emotion painted with colours that only exist at your disposal. You’ve always been afraid that my feelings for you were only fleeting moments of interest...” Philip's hands are all over his partner, memorizing every inch of his beautiful body. One hand goes up to his lips, dragging his thumb back and forth, trying to memorize the texture without upsetting how perfect the expression is. “However, you’re beyond that. How could I ever get bored of you, partner? No one is as beautiful as you…”

The words leave Philip’s lips in a tone of voice that Shoutarou's heard so many times from the other. A voice of excitement and delight. A voice that is… aimed at him. It sends butterflies through Shoutarou's already overwhelmed system. Does’t Philip realize that he's absolutely gorgeous as well? The way his eyes are full of excitement and wonder? Boss had always talked about hiding your eyes, but to Shoutarou, Philip’s eyes are the opposite. He wants to make sure the other never has to cover them. He wants them wide and able to view the world. He wants the world to see how bright and vivid and untainted they are.

Philip’s fingers dance from surface to surface of his face. Dragging over his lips first, Philip then leans down and kisses the side of Shoutarou's nose delicately. Quickly then, he moves, dragging his lips down to the corner of his cheek. Philip wants to memorize every inch of his partner. Every single part, and his face, that he could feel contort under his fingers and lips... his face is one of the most important things.

Another bolt strikes through Shoutarou as he feels Philip’s smile twist into a sheer grin. Of course, it isn’t from the kisses, but from his partner suddenly grinding against him. It surprises him, the sheer way the mood switches from something so delicate and raw to a completely different type of raw feeling - one that has months, maybe even a year’s worth, of sexual tension and unspoken desires behind it. He can feel the other’s wishes poke at the fire inside his heart and a thousand wishes rise in answer from the darkest corners where he’s hidden them. Only a devil such as Philip has the talent to rustle him like this.

“Ah, Shoutarou, both you and I are quite… bothered… aren’t we, partner…?” His voice fills with mischief, like a child with one hand in the cookie jar and the other with a half-eaten cookie already, only just now asking if they can have one. Ah, that metaphor is probably not the right one for this moment, but Shoutarou can tell it's similar feeling.

Between his own desire and Philip’s, his eyes roll for a moment, a soft groan escaping his lips. The room has exploded into waves of sexual tension rolling off the two of them, and floating between them. There's no words to really describe the way that they want each other coupled with the way they know _each other_ wants in return.

“I r-really don’t know how to...” Shoutarou stumbles over his words. He’s dreamed of this moment, but dreams aren’t like reality, and in his dreams, it had most certainly not been Philip who was the one... doing things. But Shoutarou is completely unprepared, and it's just like him to not be ready when he thinks he ought to be.

“Ah… don’t worry… I can take the lead,” Philip replies quickly, feeling the other's panic set in, and doing his best to stop the feeling in its' tracks. This moment is their first. Their last. As if he’ll let anything taint it? And besides, he is more than prepared to explore the lower part of his partner. In fact, he's ecstatic - although it's a shame that he won’t be able to see the faces Shoutarou makes as he touches every part of him. He imagines that the sounds, though, will most likely make up for that.

Leaning down, Philip’s finger brushes against the shaft, delicately at first, in a way that sets Shoutarou ablaze with whines for more. It isn’t fair. _Why is he such a tease?_ Of course, Shoutarou's playing right into his partner's hands with that reaction because all Philip wants is for Shoutarou to make _more_ of those sounds. It's an orchestra of perfection to him, after all. Carefully, his thumb strokes up the side with a bit more force, before swirling against the tip. The gasp he hears, met with the feelings of arousal that shoot through him, is enough to know that he's doing his job. This isn’t just for his own amusement, after all - Shoutarou’s happiness is also an extremely important part of his…’experiments’.

Finally, Philip's fingers wrap themselves around his length delicately and Shoutarou responds with a sound that's a mix between content and impatient. It's just like the other to want things done so quickly, but Philip likes to drags things out. The noises the other will make out of desperation will be more than worth it - he's sure. His other hand drags the pads of his fingers over the skin all around all the delicate places, going back whenever Shoutarou lets out a gasp or a wave of pleasure hit him. He will memorize every gesture that makes the other feel good.

“And now… Shoutarou…. do you want to ride the devil…? Confirmed consent is important for this sort of thing, from my research.” He’s brought the lube he’d obtained from Terui (though he isn’t sure he wants to know why the man had it on him in the first place) and shows it to Shoutarou. Normally, fucking on the first encounter like this wouldn’t be the right thing. But there is no time to wait, and with their connection, they already know each other more intimately than anyone else ever could.

“A-ah…do you mean..?!” Shoutarou looks down, his eyes widening at the bottle. They are really going to do this. And his mind drifts back to the night they met...

_Do you want to ride with the devil?_

That question will haunt him, won’t it? (He has no idea how much it will, however... how it will become the question that will wake him up in the middle of the night... the question that will plague his dreams and haunt him with memories of a person he can no longer have.) But now is not the time for that.

How is he supposed to think out a coherent answer with the other all over him like this? Then again, his whole being is already screaming the answer. It should be echoing back to Philip, shouldn’t it? They could talk without words, but... he would hate to not hear the other speak. “Yes.” Shoutarou finally mumbles; eyes fluttering close as Philip’s tongue drags over the slit.

“Ah.” Philip breathes against him, sending another shudder through him.

Oh, he isn’t ready. He isn’t ready. But he _is_. He's more than ready. He wants to feel the other. Every ounce. Every inch. Every emotion and feeling. And just as Shoutarou is trying to list every detail, every nuance, he feels a cold, slick finger enter him. His eyes shoot open wide as the other slips it into him silently, wiggling it around experimentally. “Ahh….Ph-Philip….” The feeling is weird, and he squirms against the other.

There's a breathy giggle from the other that Shoutarou would pin as…Philip being ecstatic about his reaction. He can sense the sheer feeling of joy rolling through his partner, mixed with his own pleasure. “Beautiful….” Philip whispers, before swirling his tongue in rough, precise circles around the tip. His fingers squeeze in rhythm with his finger, which has started to move, trying to accommodate him. The combination of sensations sends Shoutarou to a previously unknown high. A high that he's already sure he'll surpass again tonight.

_A high that will crash all around me tomorrow._

Shattering the darkness attempting to creep into his heart, a second finger joins the first. Philip is gentle in his own way, but at the same time pushing for more and more of his partner. His lips are dragging down the side, his fingers letting go for a second to let him feel Shoutarou against his lips.  Shoutarou’s gasps are mixed with moans, as sweat starts to drip down from his forehead. It isn’t that he's close to coming, though – No, his partner has made sure he isn’t. It's that... Philip keeps bringing him closer and closer... and then stopping, letting him drop back a bit. It's one of the most infuriating and yet _best_ ways of torture the other could possibly do to him.

And he's loving every moment of it.

The next sound in the empty room is a mix of Shoutarou's head hitting the wall hard, and a pained and surprised gasp. Philip’s fingers had scissored before slipping a third into him with little to no warning. It's just like Philip to spring something new on him only a second after he's finally adjusted to the last thing, but isn’t that what he loves about his partner? It's hard to organize his thoughts when his own voice is betraying him with gasps as the world spins into a haze of pleasure and delight. After all, it isn’t just his own pleasure he's feeling - it's Philip’s as well. Every time he gasps, he can feel the other practically jump for joy. Every moment, every single reaction, Philip seemed to hit a new high with each one.

Never in his life did he think another would love him like this. This was 'true love', wasn’t it? Part of Shoutarou quickly tried to respond through the haze that _that_ was only a fairytale thing, trying to desperately negate the saying because… if this was true love, he was about to lose it all.

But the other part of him had to acknowledge... that it _was_. After all, true love was... someone loving everything there is about you. Every nook and cranny. And who loved Shoutarou more than Philip?

_And who will when he leaves?_

“Ah, Shoutarou, don’t spoil the mood. I’m here _now_ ,” Philip speaks, interrupting Shoutarou's spiral, his lips leaving him. His eyes speak the message deeper, or perhaps it's just Philip’s essence, screaming for attention. Most likely it's also his own body aching and crying, for Philip has left him completely untouched sans his fingers wrapped around him. “In fact, I require your help, partner.” Shoutarou opens his mouth to ask what he possibly could he need his help for -  Philip was doing everything perfectly without any assistance from him.

_Something he could never achieve…_

“It’s very unadvisable to penetrate with a half-hard erection. As much as I am enjoying the show you are putting on, it would be helpful if you could… warm me up slightly?” Philip, in the middle of his words, grasps Shoutarou's hand and places it on him. _Oh god, I have to…_ It's hard to think, but Shoutarou wraps his fingers tightly around his partner. Philip’s eyelids flutter closed for a moment, his lips curling into some sort of happy-content grin, a quiet type of mischief that's only appropriate on his partner’s face. It's an expression Shoutarou tries to carve into his mind, his heart, and his being as his hands work on his partner. _Every sound. Every gasp._ Every motion Philip's body gives in response, Shoutarou does his best to memorize every single bit of it. This is Philip in pure delight as due to his actions. This is him pleasing Philip, and if the echo he feels in waves is anything, he's damn well doing his job.

Philip always cooed over how Shoutarou could apparently express every colour of the rainbow or something. But honestly, Philip isn’t far from that either. There are raw emotions that Shoutarou swears no other person can hit quite as well as Philip. Then again, it makes sense. People learn emotions from other people, right? And who did Philip have to teach him how to emote besides those wild expressions that he must have picked up from the scientists? Shoutarou, of course. Still, he honestly thinks that... from Philip’s devilish grin and wild-eyed wonderings... to his eyes fluttering close and his lips parting into a small o, just enough to let a gasp escape… there really is no one quite as beautiful.

The delicate, shaky touch matched by his uneven breath wakes him from his thoughts again. “Shoutarou…” Philip murmers, his eyes somehow a mixture of the same haze as his own, and yet excitement. “I hope you’re ready….” he mumbles, still in a daze as he pours the lube in his hands before giving himself a few strokes to coat it.

_This is really happening. I still can’t believe it…_

The unreality of the situation shatters into pieces as he feels Philip enter him. Slowly, to an almost unbearable level, he feels his partner slide himself in, and Shoutarou does his best to push back against him. Tears prick at his eyes as his head slams against the wall again, trying to form words or anything to let Philip know _not_ to stop. He can't manage, and yet... he'ss sure that the other has gotten the message anyway.

The moment Philip fills him to the brim; Shoutarou closes his eyes tight and tries to control himself. There is an endless echo of pleasure between them. Their connection is the strongest it's ever been. There's no need for words or any sort of communication. Their souls, their love, and their desire speaks and dances together. They're truly connected, two as one, and it's impossible to feel where one ends and the other begins. It's as if two puzzle pieces that had never been able to match up with the rest of the puzzle have finally connected. The picture is clear between them. A picture, a message, a feeling that honestly, they could never hope to explain to other people. It's just as if…apart they are each only half a person. But together?

_We are double._

As Philip starts to move, Shoutarou bites his lip hard, again trying his best to control himself. He can feel every part of him on edge, and every sensation, every feeling, every ounce of pleasure is doubled, and for someone who's embarrassingly a virgin….it's definitely far too much. Not that Philip honestly seems to be holding together any better as their eyes meet, as he's panting and trying to move faster without coming mid-thrust. They are both pretty half-boiled, honestly. But it's only their first time, after all, what were they expecting?

_It’ll probably be our last too…_

Just as Philip is starting to get momentum, and his hands are starting to work their way to Shoutarou, memorizing every inch of skin in this moment, adding to the pool of sensations and feelings, his gaze shoots up. Both of them give each other the same wide-eyed embarrassed look, before a shared wordless agreement fills the air. Lacing their fingers together, Philip tries to smash their lips, but the sheer intensity throws him off. He ends up calling Shoutarou’s name loudly against his shoulder and Philip’s name leaves Shoutarou’s lips at the exact moment.

It’s a moment where the whole world is finally perfectly in place.

The second Philip leaves him, Shoutarou’s heart shatters. The world falls askew. They both stumble together, clothes in tow to the bedroom. Luckily, there’s no one around during this time of night, not that anyone’s opinion would matter at this point.

Shoutarou falls asleep with Philip’s face buried into his side. If he wasn’t so exhausted, he would never have been able to sleep. Neither of them would. It would be their last night together. The last night to feel the other in their arms. The last night to hear the other sleep peacefully beside them. The last night... to truly feel whole.

In the next few weeks after Philip’s… departure… Shoutarou spends every morning tracing his fingers over the marks Philip left - a reminder that the night was real… that Philip was real. It's hard to convince himself that someone so perfect existed when they are no longer by his side.

Sometimes, Philip feels like a dream, honestly... But, as the marks fade, the memory of Philip doesn’t. There's a gaping hole left in his heart, but somehow, Shoutarou finds the will to move his feet forward.

After all, he has to live for both of them now, right?

 


End file.
